


Tucker Tuesday

by Flutterling225



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Bondage, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-26 20:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7588852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flutterling225/pseuds/Flutterling225
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An American intern in London goes to her first municipality meeting, and is forewarned by her colleagues about a certain Scotsman.  However, the warnings only serve to make her more curious about him, and the feeling seems to be mutual...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set a few years after The Thick of It. Malcolm is allowed to work in the government again, but only at a local level.

     She sat in the slightly cramped board room, idly twisting a lock of her sand-colored hair around one finger.  Her new boss was droning on about zoning ordinances or some such, she had long forgotten what they had even called a meeting for in the first place.  She had thought that interning in London would be fun and exciting, but all she was these days was practically a glorified secretary, fetching coffee or e-mailing documents, making the odd phone call to get shouted at by some bureaucrat or another.  She had been impressed upon that this meeting was important, but here she was, scanning the faces in the room, trying to determine if anyone else remembered why they were all there and if she was the only one bored out of her mind.

     She had been warned, as well, of the man on whom her eyes now fell.  No one had given her a physical description, merely that he was an "older bloke" with a "serious" demeanor and a "raging temper that would make a rabid jaguar look like a newborn kitten".  She had stolen glimpses at him prior, but for some reason now the way he was impatiently checking his watch and practically squirming in his seat, hands clasping and unclasping the knees on his slate-grey suit, like he ached to say something but had thought better of it, she could barely tear her eyes away from him.  She had always had a... _thing_ for older men, but he was the first she'd seen in her first month of her internship that actually piqued her interest.  His blue eyes flicked over to her, once, twice, and each time she hastily looked away, feeling her face flush at being caught (so she felt) staring.  How rude he must have thought her, how little patience he must have for her, the lowly peon who clearly didn't belong.

     Suddenly, he was standing, and all eyes (including and especially hers) were on him.  The tension in the room raised immediately.  Everyone was on edge, waiting for the tirade they knew was coming, and boy did it.  He was not exactly shouting, but his voice was raised and quite clearly annoyed, curses spilling from his lips like air from her own lungs. Her heart raced.  Her palms began to sweat.  The skin all over her body began to tighten and itch, even tingle a bit.  Her breathing seemed ragged, and she struggled to control it.  Twice she nearly dropped her phone as this man, this Malcolm Tucker, voiced his ire at the incompetence surrounding him, the job which was beneath him and the irritation that the meeting had gone twice as long as it was supposed to.

     "Let's get the fuck out of here," he finished, "I'm headed to the fucking pub downstairs."  His eyes met hers at the last bit, and she didn't _dare_ believe he was speaking _to_ her...but it certainly felt that way.  She was torn - _surely_ he hadn't intended that to be an invitation?  Would he even care if she showed up?  There was only one way to find out.  She began gathering her things and tried (fairly unsuccessfully) not to make a mad dash for the door where her co-workers were filing out.  He had already gone, of course, but maybe she could catch the lift with him...

     Her path was blocked suddenly, one of her co-workers whose name she hadn't learned yet.  He was fairly young, she guessed about her age, and he re-introduced himself when she expressed that she had difficulty placing names to faces.

     "So," she heard him say, "I figured maybe, if you weren't busy, we could...I dunno, grab a drink or a coffee or something?"  He was flirting with her.  Dear God, why now? An hour ago, maybe she would have been interested, he was cute enough, but _now_...?

     "Maybe another time? I've got a lot of work to catch up on at home," she heard herself lie before she could even process the words that were coming out of her own mouth.  The young man looked disappointed, but understanding.  "Cheers," she said, a little thing she'd picked up on in her time in London, and practically darted out of the room and into the hallway, looking frantically around for her original target.  She saw a lift door closing and knew she wouldn't make it in time.  Cursing under her breath, she pressed the button and waited for the next one, her knee bouncing a bit as she did.

     As the lift door opened into the hotel lobby, she could see the attached pub, and there he was, sitting on a stool at the open end of the bar.  She swallowed hard, her face flushing slightly, as she stepped out and into the pub.  She contemplated sitting next to him, but figured it would look too desperate and settled on a stool on the opposite end, up against the wall.  Her nerves were on edge, her hands were practically shaking, her voice small as she ordered a Scotch neat.  She normally hated the taste of strong liquor, but she needed some courage right now, and she downed it in one go and barely let the burn in her throat subside before ordering another.

     "Tiny thing like you ought to slow down," a low, gravelly voice with a Scottish accent opined from her left, " 'less you want to get fucking alcohol poisoning."

     He had taken the seat immediately to her left, and every nerve in her body felt as though it had been given an electric shock.  She raised the second drink to her lips and downed this one a bit more slowly, making a face as the liquid washed over her tongue, and when she set her glass back down, he had leaned in a bit closer to her.  She felt his eyes on her, moving up and down her body, and she couldn't tell if it was him or the alcohol that was making her light-headed.  She clung to her glass as he opened his mouth to speak again.

     "I saw you upstairs," he practically whispered into her ear, making her grip tighten so that she almost felt as though she would break the glass.  "You kept looking over at me, like I was some kind of fucking wild animal.  You looked almost frightened."

     "Sorry," she said meekly, her voice raspy from the burn of the alcohol.  He chuckled a bit.

     "No need," he answered, "I've been told I'm scary, especially to tiny little American girls."  Suddenly his hand was on hers, and she involuntarily flinched. "Surely not THAT scary...?"

     "Sorry," she repeated, "I just...it's..."  She always struggled for words when she was flustered.  She hated how she must have sounded to him - the stupid little American girl.   He chuckled at her stammering, but seemed intent on letting her get her words out.  "It's just...it's been a very long time since a man touched me."  She felt her face turn a deep red, but she didn't bother to correct herself - other than a handshake when she'd been hired and introduced to co-workers and such, it had indeed been quite a long time since a man had touched her in a non-professional manner.

     "Well," he virtually growled, "why don't we fix that?"  She nodded, he paid for their drinks and pulled her seat out so she could stand, then gestured "after you", leading her toward the lift once again.  He pressed a button, the doors closed, and as the lift started to move, they both looked around for security cameras.  Finding no obvious signs of them, he moved to stand in front of her, guiding her into the far corner of the lift, and rather roughly took hold of her chin. Her legs began to quiver, the muscles between her thighs aching to be touched.  The slightest stimulation was driving her mad.  
  
     "You're shaking," he whispered into her ear.  She swallowed hard and barely managed to nod.  "You're intimidated by me."  She nodded again. "That's why I picked you.  Meek little thing."  His own breathing was quickening, she noticed, and his eyes were searching hers, looking for a sign that she was in fact too afraid to continue.  She steeled her resolve and maintained eye contact, not an easy task for her normally, but his eyes were so beautiful, so _hungry_ , she couldn't tear her own away from them.  Before she knew what was happening, he had pressed himself against her and practically slammed his mouth into hers, nearly knocking her glasses off her face.  She let a small noise escape her lips before parting them for him, allowing his tongue access and intertwining it with his in an equal amount of passion.  He could feel the heat coming off of her through her slightly-too-short skirt and his own trousers, and it made him hunger for her all the more.  Their hands roamed all over each others' bodies, grasping each other's hair and clothing desperately, and just as he was about to slip his hand under her skirt, the lift _ding_ ed and slowed.  Reluctantly they peeled apart, faces flush and heat radiating off of them.

     He took her hand in his, led her to his room, hastily stuck the key card into the slot (it took him two tries in his rush) and not-so-playfully threw her inside.  She stumbled a bit, the intensity of the make-out session in the lift and the strength of the two drinks she'd consumed earlier causing her to be a bit unsteady on top of her already natural propensity to trip on nothingness.  She turned to face Malcolm and saw with slight astonishment that he had already removed his jacket and was working on his tie.

     "It just occurred to me," he said, sliding the knot down and making sure the tie was (for the most part) straight, "that I hadn't been introduced to you.  Obviously my reputation precedes me, but yours...not so much.  I don't even know your fucking name."  He was working on his buttons now, and her eyes were so fixated on the silver curls starting to protrude from beneath the cloth of his shirt that she nearly didn't hear him.  She wanted so badly to touch them...

     "Um...Felicia," she managed after a moment that she hoped he hadn't noticed.  He had, because he smirked as he took his time with the remaining buttons, giving her a show.  She noticed he still had his tie - a blue that almost matched his eyes - wrapped around one hand as his shirt fell to the floor.  She cocked an eyebrow.  "Why are you still holding your tie?"

     "Don't fucking ask questions," he growled in that incredible accent of his.  Her mouth ran dry as she awaited further instruction.  "Sit on the bed, take your shoes off and put your hands out in front of you."  She did, and he began wrapping the tie around her wrists, binding them together.  Her heart was pounding now, her breathing labored.  He noticed her getting nervous and smirked evilly again, his eyes piercing hers.  "Or would you rather I gag you?"  She shook her head.  She'd secretly always wanted a man to tie her up and have his way with her...perhaps this is why she singled him out, his take-charge attitude and gruff demeanor, he _had_ to have been into that sort of thing.

     He finished the knot, making sure it was secure but not cutting off the circulation, and commanded her to lie back with her hands above her head.  She readily complied.  He straddled her then, taking in the sight before him.  Her blue-green eyes were filled with lust and just a bit of fear, her cheeks were flushed, her lips full and pink.  He could see her nipples fully erect beneath her blouse and bra, the mere sight of which was driving him wild.  Like an animal, he lunged for her neck, sucking and licking and biting, relishing her gasps and squeaks as her hips bucked wildly beneath him.  His hands worked her breasts through her shirt, practically clawing at them, until he came a little bit to his senses and began to undo the buttons on her blouse.  She arched her back into his hands, allowing him to more easily slip each button out of its hole - which, naturally, he did slowly as to make her squirm despite his desire to have her naked as soon as possible.

     The conflicting paces he was taking were driving her mad - she wanted so desperately for him to tear her clothes off and put an end to this torment.  She could tell he wanted her as much as she him, could see it as plainly as the bulge in his pants growing larger by the second.  The fact that she couldn't use her hands was as much frustrating as it was exciting - she wanted so badly to run her hands over his chest, entwine her fingers in his lovely curls again, wrap her arms under his and grip his shoulders...but being completely at his mercy was so incredible, and he was _so_ skilled - which was exactly why she loved older men.  She tried and failed to stifle a chuckle as impatience got the better of him and he tore the last few buttons off her blouse and ripped the garment open, exposing her chest and belly.  The glint in his eye as he noticed the laugh was almost evil, and once again he smirked, and once again her muscles ached to feel him inside her.

     "Oh, are you enjoying this, you little bitch?"  His voice was utterly feral with desire, and he didn't wait for an answer as he bent down and peeled back a cup of her bra with his teeth, taking a swollen nipple into his mouth and tongueing it with such ferocity that she screamed as she climaxed almost instantly.  He was unhooking her bra as she arched her back, letting one hand trail down to the small of her back and then to her hips to keep her from bucking him off while the other was occupied with her other breast.  Between licking and sucking he intoned, "I asked you a fucking question: are you enjoying this?"

     "Oh God, yes," she moaned, over and over again, barely able to verbalize thanks to the waves of pleasure washing over her as he again attacked her now-bared breasts.  His hands were like magic and his mouth was making her entire body shudder as he moved from one breast to the other.  She was suddenly aware of the hand that had previously been at her hip was now hiking her skirt up.  Her moan as he lazily trailed his fingertips up the inside of her thigh was a noise she hadn't even heard herself make before.  She wanted him - no, _needed_ him - NOW.  She started squealing his name as though it were the only word she knew as she felt herself get wetter than she'd ever thought possible, and his fingers made their way toward her dampness.

     "Christ, maybe I _should_  have fucking gagged you," he teased, his mouth finding her ear again and breathing hotly into it.  She squirmed and shuddered again - his voice in her ear nearly drove her over the edge once more.  "Then again, I wouldn't get to hear half these sounds you're making...who knew such a tiny thing could be so fucking _loud_?"  He'd been slowly stroking her opening through her panties, and with his last word he used one finger to push them aside and plunged another into her depths.  Her second climax was immediate - he had hit her G-spot, and she was non-verbal now, making sounds even Malcolm had never heard a woman make.  "Good _lord_ you're tight," he mused as he added a second finger, relishing the feeling of her muscles clenching and unclenching around them, spurred on by her cries to finger her faster and faster.  Suddenly his hand was covered in her juices, and her muscles were slowing in their contractions.  He ran his fingers around her lips, moistening them, preparing her for his next act.

     "Oh, fuck," she was sighing, almost chanting in the wake of her orgasm.  She had never had a man hit that spot and bring her to climax so completely - and she knew he wasn't finished with her yet.  She shivered as he wiped her own juices back on her to use as lubrication, her lips still sensitive to his touch.  When he had finished, he was undoing the belt from around his waist, then she heard the unzipping of his fly.  She couldn't help but to watch as he removed his trousers and boxers in one fluid movement.  He was _enormous_ , and she didn't even try to stifle her gasp and a sigh of "Oh my _God"_. He gave an "I get that all the time" expression as he removed his socks, then climbed back on top of her - this time kneeling just over her chest, his knees on either side of her and his cock at her throat.

     "Give us a kiss," he purred, slightly thrusting his hips forward.  She gladly obliged, kissing the head and then licking the pre-cum off the tip.  He tilted his head back and let a small moan escape his lips, which she took as a sign to continue.  She took the head into her mouth, lightly sucking and swirling her tongue all around him.  It was all he could do not to thrust his entire length into her mouth - he had no idea what her gag reflex was like, after all, and had been on the receiving end of some... _unfortunate_ results in the past because of it.  This was one thing he was glad to take slowly, to test her limits and see how much she could handle.  He admired her determination as she damn near unhinged her jaw trying to take all of him in (she actually managed about half), and had to admire her technique as well - just the right ratio of teeth, tongue and soft kisses.  Soon she was bobbing her head quickly, sucking harder, moaning against him, trying to make him cum...he damn near exploded in her mouth, but he snapped to his senses just in time and took a handful of her hair, pulling back hard enough to make her cry out but not to actually hurt her.  "That's enough," he barked, "if you want anything more than that, anyway."

     The sensation of his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back from his cock before he exploded...it had gotten her going again, and she needed him more than before.  His mouth had found hers once more, stifling her moans as he guided the head along her lips, teasing her, testing to see if her lubrication had dried up.  It had not.  He very slowly inserted the tip into her, and her groan of pleasure and need for more was barely contained by his mouth covering hers.  He began to rock his hips, and her cries grew more and more frustrated, her voice raising higher and higher in pitch as she begged him, "Please, Malcolm...please... _please_..."

     "Please _what_?" he questioned, his voice dripping with lust.  He kissed her throat, directly under her chin, and nibbled the skin there as he continued to slowly rock his hips.  He could feel her need, but _he_ needed to hear her before he could continue.  She merely continued to beg, so he stopped moving his hips and started licking leisurely up and down her throat.  He held her hips firmly with both hands so that she could not simply take what she wanted.  It was practically painful for her not to be fulfilled, and he knew it.

     "Please...fuck me, Malcolm..."  She finally managed it, and he obliged, thrusting deep within her.  He felt her orgasm after three hard thrusts, but he kept going.  He was spurred on by her wrapping her legs around his waist, urging him to go deeper, her cries of "YES!" and "Oh, _Malcolm_!" very nearly driving him to climax on their own.  She had lowered her arms and draped her hands around the back of his neck, gripping his curls in her palms and between her fingers.  She was pulling his hair this time, but _damn_ if it didn't feel wonderful.  He felt himself reaching the edge, and when he felt her muscles start to contract around him and heard her cries grow so high in pitch that dogs outside could have heard her, he allowed himself to finally climax as well.

     They lay there intertwined for a time (neither knew exactly how long) before Malcolm reached up to untie her wrists.  She let her arms fall to either side of her, too exhausted to lift them but needing to move them to get circulation back.  He lay on top of her, completely spent and satisfied for the first time in a _long_ time, his wiry frame just enough that she could bear him without feeling suffocated.  Neither of them spoke - neither of them _could_ speak.  Finally, she needed to use the toilet, and excused herself to do so.  Malcolm cleaned himself up with some facial tissue that had been on the nightstand next to the bed and re-arranged the blankets a bit so that when she returned, they wouldn't be laying in their own fluids.

     "I can't believe I just did that," she mused as she settled into the bed, resting her head on his outstretched arm and pulling the comforter up to her chest.  He draped his other arm over her and pulled her close.

     "Engaged in light bondage with a complete stranger twice your age?" he queried, placing a light kiss on her forehead.  She giggled, a high, small noise that made him smile in return.  "Are you okay?"

     She looked up at him in slight shock.  "Do I not look okay?"

     "Just thought I'd ask.  A lot of women aren't after being tied up."  He kissed her forehead again.

     "If I hadn't been into it, I'd have told you.  I wouldn't have let you tie me up in the first place."

     "Some women don't want to say no."  A sad look came over his face then.  "Apparently they're too scared to tell me, or they think it's what they want until it comes time to actually do it.  I'm not a fucking mind reader."

     "Well, I will tell you if I don't like something," she offered firmly, kissing the tip of his nose for emphasis.  He smiled again.

     "You're planning on doing this again, aren't you?" he asked with a smirk.

     "Maybe," she answered, nipping at his bottom lip.

     "Well, fuck me, I guess that's decided, then," he laughed, and pulled her into a long, passionate kiss.


	2. Hump Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicia and Malcolm expand their "meeting spots".

     The next week was essentially a blur.  Malcolm discovered quickly that Felicia worked in the same building as he, and soon they were finding different places all around for some alone time.  They both soon found that their mutual favorite place was a largely forgotten-about bathroom where he could throw her into a stall or bend her over a sink and they could go at it like animals - without the fear of being interrupted.  Each time it was the absolute sexiest experience either of them could remember having.  Managing to synchronize their lunch breaks afforded them time to recover and then grab something from a food cart afterward, making small talk and discovering more about each other than just their favorite positions.

     Malcolm had also taken it upon himself to go rifling through her file and found that she was living not far from their office.  He raised the subject one day a little more than a week into their little "fling".

     "You... _what?_ " she had asked incredulously.

     "I want to see where you live," he repeated as though it were the most natural request to have made.  "I'll even pay for cab fare for the both of us.  I'm just curious to see how the fucking City of London values its employees."  She had to think it over, but at the end of the day, she relented and they shared a cab - rather awkwardly, really, due to not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that they were both going to the same place.  Finally they arrived on the outskirts of town and got out in front of a shop, walking the rest of the way to a small complex resting just on the city limits.

     "Here we are, I guess."  Her flat was nothing to speak of, really, just a small living room, a kitchen, and a small corridor leading to an equally-small bedroom with a bathroom attached.  "It's not much, but I don't pay for it as part of my internship. Also I don't have much by way of furniture because, y'know...living by myself and all...wouldn't really be able to get a couch or anything in here."  Malcolm scanned the space, noting how she'd "decorated".

     "Only brought the essentials, I see," he joked, gesturing toward a framed _Doctor Who_  poster.

     "Gotta have something to look at, might as well be David Tennant," she returned, walking up to the poster and compulsively straightening it.  "And I suppose Matt Smith's not bad either.  A bit young, though.  Wish they still made posters with Christopher Eccleston on them, now _he_ was a stone-cold fox."

     "You have... _eclectic_ tastes in men," Malcolm observed with a grin, moving behind her quietly.

     "Why do you think you're here?" she asked, grinning as well but not turning to face him.

     "Because I wanted to see your flat."  He had leaned down slightly to place his lips next to her ear.  "Have you got anything interesting in the bedroom?"  His grin grew broader as he felt her lean back against him, her knees having nearly given out at his breath on her ear.  He placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

     "Jesus, Malcolm, you know what that does to me," she groaned, her voice tinged with lust.  She tried to right herself, but he seemed content with her right where she was as one of his hands crept around to reach into her blouse.  She settled for reaching back and wrapping her arms around his neck.

     "Yes, but it's so much fun to see your reaction."  He placed a light kiss on her earlobe, then found himself trailing more kisses down to her neck.  Her hips were already moving of their own accord against him, grinding her ass on him, and he felt his trousers starting to get tighter.  His hand had found her breast and he began rubbing her nipple through her thin blouse and bra.  Whether from the kisses or his fondling her he couldn't tell, but he caught a moan escaping her lips and it drove him to be a bit more aggressive.  He began to suck on her neck, biting occasionally, drawing small hisses from her each time.  His other hand unbuttoned her blouse so he could reach in easier, and he dove into her bra, squeezing both breasts in his hands, rolling the nipples between his fingers.  She moaned louder, her hips grinding harder, her fingers starting to grip his curls like she was clinging to a life raft.

     "God, Malcolm..." she moaned, seemingly unable to say much else.

     "Do you want to take this to the bedroom?" he breathed against her neck, "or do you just want to fuck right here on the floor?"

     "I don't care," she sighed, "I just...want... _you._ "

     "As you wish," he whispered, and suddenly his arms were lifting her off her feet and he was carrying her down the hallway to her bedroom.  She gave a startled squeak but wrapped her arms around his neck, entwining her fingers in his curls and nibbling on his neck and earlobe as he walked.  He actually stumbled a bit when she suddenly licked up his neck to behind his ear and started sucking his earlobe.  She couldn't stifle her small giggle at the effect she'd had on him.

     As soon as he opened the door to her room, he playfully tossed her onto the bed and began unbuckling his belt, practically ripping it and the fly of his trousers open.  She was on her knees before he could free himself, looking up at him with desire in her big, blue eyes.

     "You really want to put that mouth of yours to work?" he growled, stepping closer so that he was nearly touching her lips with the tip.  She took him in one small hand and started stroking slowly.  He groaned at the sensation, but kept his eyes open - he wanted to watch her work.

     "Yes, Mister Tucker," she purred before flicking her tongue over the tip of his cock.  He allowed his eyes to close then, emitting a low sound from the back of his throat that drove her wild.  She continued licking up his entire length, placing light kisses in his most sensitive areas.  His hands were in her hair, guiding her, and she could feel him restraining himself from grabbing her head and forcing her to do what he wanted.  She took her time, relishing the feeling of him growing harder and longer, before finally taking him into her mouth.  She smiled against his skin as he groaned loudly and began sucking in earnest, swirling her tongue around him as she took him further and further in. He was panting and growling like an animal, which drove her to take nearly his entire length over and over again, faster and faster.

     "Oh, _fuck_..." she heard him sigh, and with a small _pop_ she let his cock slide out of her mouth.  His eyes met hers, the glint in them almost frustrated - he needed to finish, but her desire for him was just as strong as his for her, and he knew that she wouldn't be satisfied simply by sucking him off.  They had come back to her flat for a reason.  She was already moving backwards on the bed, starting to unbutton her blouse with one hand and freeing her short hair from the ponytail she'd been wearing all day.

     "Fuck me, Malcolm Tucker," she purred again, and in a flash he was on her, his mouth attacking hers, their tongues dancing furiously between their lips.  He tore her blouse free of its remaining buttons and removed her bra.  His hands were everywhere on her, one moment squeezing her tiny breasts, the next gripping her around her shoulders to hold her close, the next caressing her thighs before moving one hand up her skirt to the source of her heat.  Her arms wrapped around him, her hands desperately clinging to his shoulders, and as he began rubbing her through her panties, he felt her nails dig into the skin as she moaned against his lips.  One finger found her clitoris, and he flicked it lightly with his fingertip.  Her hips bucked forward in response; with his other finger he felt her dampness even through the cotton of her panties, and at his repeated flicking of her nub he felt it become full-on wetness.  He was tempted to finger her, but he had other plans.

     He broke their very passionate kiss and buried his face in her neck where it met the shoulder.  The squeaks and groans she had been making into his mouth were now much louder - she was a very noisy lover, which he absolutely loved, but all too often she had to stifle herself in the office so no one got suspicious of what they were up to.  He nuzzled her, continuing to tease her, letting his slight stubble tickle her neck before licking her neck up to her ear, which elicited a gasp and a slight shudder from her.  He felt her wetness grow even more - she was so sensitive, another thing he loved about her.

     "You still want me to fuck you?" he asked.  She nodded, panting heavily after her small orgasm.  "Say it again. I like when you say it."  He nipped her ear then, earning him another small gasp.  He moved his hand away then, and he heard a disappointed groan escape her lips.  He smiled and sighed into her ear, which sent a chill up her spine.  He gripped her tightly to his body, pressing his hardness against her through her skirt.

     "Oh _God_ , yes," she moaned, grinding against him once again. "God damn it, Malcolm, _fuck me_." She felt his smile on her skin just behind her ear.

     "Potty mouth," he teased, gently pushing her down by her shoulders so that she was flat on her back.  He remained upright long enough to remove his shirt, and she reached up to run a hand down his chest.  He pulled his trousers and boxers down simultaneously, producing a condom from his pocket as he did so.  Without hesitation, she took it from his hand to open it while he removed her skirt and panties.  He reached for the now unwrapped condom to take it from her, but she pulled it away.

     "I want to," she said, her voice a husky whisper.  He smirked and righted himself, holding his throbbing cock in his hand while she unrolled the latex up his length.  He slightly twitched involuntarily at the touch, and she smiled as he leaned down to kiss her again.  His kiss was still hungry, but this time it was almost gentle.  Neither knew what had come over him to kiss her so tenderly, but neither was complaining, either.

     Breaking the kiss, he moved closer, spreading her knees as he did.  His head found her warm wetness, and using his hand, he guided it slowly up and down her slit.  She tilted her head back and let out a long, low moan, and he took the opportunity to kiss and suck on her exposed neck.  Her hips were thrusting against him, her moans growing more urgent.  He pushed the tip into her, grunting a bit himself, eliciting a gasp from her.

     "Fuck, you're still so fucking _tight_..."  She answered with another gasp as he thrusted again - not going far, he just wanted to tease her further.  "I'm not hurting you?"  Once again, both were surprised at his sudden concern, but neither questioned it, and she merely nodded and rocked her hips to urge him to continue.  As he pushed on, he hit her G-spot, which he knew because her moans raised an octave in pitch and her eyes shut tightly.  He rocked his hips in time with hers, hitting her G-spot over and over until he thought she would literally explode.  She gasped loudly, her entire body shuddered, and she gripped the bedsheets so hard she nearly put holes in them with her nails.  He grinned.  "Shall I continue?"

     "Shut up," she said, wrapping her legs around the small of his back.  He cocked his head in an "I suppose" gesture and thrust himself fully into her depths.  She practically shrieked, but didn't remove her legs from around him, so he continued thrusting, pounding himself into her over and over again.  The entire bed was shaking with their movements as gripped her hips tightly to move them in perfect unison with his - not that she needed much help, he just liked having hold of her.  After several thrusts, he felt her muscles contract around him as she orgasmed again, and in response he pumped faster and faster.  His grunts and swearing mixed with her own as he finally climaxed himself.  Panting and sweating profusely, he collapsed next to her, his head sinking into one of her pillows.  She was panting as well, the evening sun shining through her window giving the impression on her equally sweat-drenched skin that she was almost glowing.  He admired her for a moment, then carefully removed the condom while looking around for somewhere to dispose of it.  She had a small bin next to her dresser that he tossed it into, then he turned back to wrap his arms around her and hold her while they both recovered.

     "You know," he mused as he pulled her comforter over the both of them, "that you can never say 'Yes, Mister Tucker' in the office again without me wanting to bend you over your fucking desk and fuck you right there in front of everyone."

     "Well, I guess it's a good thing we don't see each other that often while we're working."  She smiled as she nuzzled up to his chest.  "We'll always have the third floor bathroom."  She heard him chuckle as he stroked her hair, then felt him place a light kiss on the top of her head and she smiled again.

     "You little nympho," he teased.  He placed another kiss on the top of her head, holding his lips against her long enough to realize that she had fallen asleep.  "What the fuck are you doing to me, girl...?" he whispered into her hair before drifting off himself.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic in over ten years...hope you enjoyed it, I enjoyed writing it. There may be a second (and possibly a third) chapter if I ever get around to it :p


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